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Chapter 7
Ethan strode into the room and laid Erin directly onto the bed.
The head maid quickly approached and placed a pillow behind her back. Erin, who had intended to move over to the table instead, had no choice but to awkwardly lean against the headboard.
“What exactly are you trying to do right now?”
Erin looked up at him in disbelief.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped and swayed slightly beneath his weight.
“Mr. Fletcher.”
“What.”
“Are you seriously asking because you don’t know?”
Ethan shrugged and pulled the blanket he had pushed aside back over her legs. The crisp white bedding rustled in his hands.
Erin stared at him with a mixture of suspicion and distrust before deliberately jerking her knees upward in defiance.
Immediately, a large hand pressed both her knees down through the blanket.
“Hey now. Stay still. The doctor will be here soon.”
“A doctor…?”
“I contacted one before we left Fourth Avenue. Somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that your injury might not be entirely unrelated to me.”
“…”
She had already guessed as much.
After all, it was true that the moment their eyes met, she had stepped wrong and twisted her ankle.
Still, Erin let out a scoff dripping with contempt.
“You think quite highly of yourself. Ridiculous.”
“Even if you say it’s not my fault, that moment still left me feeling strange. So if that leg never heals properly, how am I supposed to face you without guilt?”
“Oh, please.”
Erin crossed her arms at the absurd remark.
“You think this is the first or second time I’ve fallen? ‘Never heals,’ my foot. At this rate I could return to practice tomorrow morning.”
“Then that’s good.”
“Fine. Since you’re satisfied, why don’t you just say whatever it was you wanted to say so badly?”
As soon as she spoke, the head maid quietly shut the door behind her and left.
“Have you ever been to Second Avenue?”
The man’s low voice rang out immediately.
Erin had expected something significant, but the opening question was laughably trivial.
“Second Avenue? Of course. I’ve probably been there far more often than you.”
“You sound awfully certain.”
“There’s no reason not to.”
Every spring, she spent time in the capital. Depending on the year, she had stayed through autumn, winter, and summer as well.
First Avenue near the royal palace, Second and Third Avenue bordering Levinar Park, and Fourth Avenue where the ballet company was located—she had gone through them so often she was sick of them. Even Fifth Avenue near Lake Dite, though somewhat farther out, felt just as familiar as her family’s own territory.
So there was not even the slightest exaggeration in her answer.
“Hm. But no—sorry to say this, Lady Cornu, but you’re wrong.”
Ethan laughed lightly. It was the kind of laugh that sounded both mocking because things had gone exactly as expected, and genuinely surprised at the same time.
“Wrong?”
“The Second Avenue I was talking about wasn’t one of the streets branching out from the royal palace toward the center of the capital.”
He smiled lazily.
“I meant my department store, LeFitte.”
“Oh, was that it?”
She had no idea when the name of a district in the kingdom had become synonymous with his store, but the sheer shamelessness of it was almost impressive in its own way.
And there was only one response she could willingly offer to such impressive audacity.
“If that’s what you meant, then it’s an even easier question. Are you honestly asking because you don’t know?”
“No. It’s not that I don’t know, but…”
Apparently understanding the real point behind her answer, he trailed off awkwardly. Then he slowly nodded, narrowing his eyes.
“Right. A noble lady like you obviously would never have visited.”
“Regrettably, yes. That’s true.”
Exactly as he said.
Whether it was clothes, gloves, or shoes, Erin had never once used ready-made goods in her life.
She did know from newspapers how deeply factory-made products had spread throughout society during the industrial age of recent decades, and how people had all begun dressing similarly because of it. But that was the extent of her awareness.
It wasn’t that she had any objection to the trend itself. But that only applied when it concerned other people’s lives.
Like most nobles, Erin secretly looked down on department stores—the pinnacle and gathering place of mass-produced goods.
And hearing all of that compressed into her single word, “regrettably,” Ethan seemed oddly understanding.
A generous attitude for someone who happened to own that very department store.
“Well, I’m not surprised. Women like you were never my target audience anyway.”
Erin narrowed her eyes at that. It didn’t sound quite like an insult, but it certainly wasn’t flattering either.
“I mean people other than your sort.”
Watching her expression, Ethan met her gaze and grinned.
“The women with a bit of money who secretly admire high society ladies and imitate them behind closed doors. Those are the women I care about.”
The vague expression on his face instantly came alive. A blazing energy seemed ready to burst from his blue eyes.
“They’re my precious customers, after all.”
The implication was unmistakable. Anyone could have guessed his delighted intentions just by looking at his face.
And because the meaning was so clear, Erin understood him immediately.
“Ah. So that’s my value to you.”
“Hm?”
The one caught off guard by her sharp words was Ethan Fletcher himself.
His eyes widened as he leaned back cautiously.
“What’s this…? Why are you suddenly being so agreeable? Didn’t know you could use terms like that.”
“Would you rather I weren’t proactive?”
“No, I like it. I do.”
Ethan nodded enthusiastically.
“I don’t fully understand it, but I’ll accept it. You chose me and my department store because it benefits your profits.”
At that, Ethan smiled broadly. The corners of his mouth lifted in perfect symmetry.
“When you think about it, marrying me isn’t exactly a bad deal for you either. In many ways.”
“I’ll admit that much. Though none of this seems remotely normal.”
At this point, there was no reason not to humor the businessman.
If this was how Ethan Fletcher viewed her role, then it was easier to accept it quickly and move on.
“And I’d like to correct one thing. What I want isn’t just money. I want something symbolic too. Something that can be engraved into people’s minds as a one-of-a-kind icon.”
“…”
“My department store, LeFitte, is a place where reality and fantasy are perfectly intertwined. We’re not merchants selling products—we’re magicians selling fantasies. That’s how I see it.”
“…Ah. Right.”
The man preaching his absurd philosophy stretched both arms across the bed and tipped his head back.
Crossing his legs and stretching them out leisurely, he looked utterly satisfied with himself. He idly turned his head, letting his gaze wander around the bedroom.
Erin narrowed her eyes.
“Was there something else you wanted to say to me?”
“…Else?”
“If you’re finished, would you leave? I’m tired.”
The man blinked slowly before rolling up his sleeve to check his watch. At once, his brow furrowed.
“Damn.”
He rose from the bed. The lazily unfocused eyes that had seemed impossible to read moments ago sharpened once more into those of a businessman.
“Ah, the most important thing. Unless something urgent happens, stay home for a while.”
“What?”
“Don’t leave this mansion.”
The absurdity flowed from him so naturally that it was almost impressive. Erin laughed in disbelief, wondering if she had heard wrong.
“I fail to understand why those words are coming from you, Mr. Fletcher.”
“You said you’d accept it. Me and my department store.”
“So what does that have to do with this? It sounds suspiciously like interference. We’re not even married yet.”
“Marriage?”
Just then, a knock sounded at the door. The doctor he had called must have arrived.
The door opened, and the head maid peeked in cautiously, as though asking permission to enter. Ethan gestured for her to come inside.
Erin was just thinking how strangely abrupt the interruption had been when the man placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I think you’ve misunderstood something, my lady. The moment Her Highness the Princess granted permission, our relationship already began. The wedding is just an event we tack on afterward.”
“An event?”
“Cooperate with me as much as possible. And once again, Lady Cornu, don’t go to the ballet company tomorrow.”
Whispering those words, he stepped aside and buttoned his jacket.
Behind him, the head maid and the physician carrying a medical bag approached the bed.
“And honestly, this ankle injury works out perfectly.”
“…?”
His gaze flicked toward the white blanket covering her ankle before returning to her face.
“It’s the most believable excuse for leaving the ballet company, isn’t it?”
